


just keep breathing

by allstars



Series: happy steve bingo 2019 [3]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Angst with a Happy Ending, Gen, Happy Steve Bingo, Light Angst, Panic Attacks, Post-Avengers: Infinity War Part 1 (Movie), Protective Tony Stark, Steve Rogers Feels, Steve Rogers Needs a Hug
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-08
Updated: 2019-11-08
Packaged: 2021-02-01 22:36:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,426
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21356065
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/allstars/pseuds/allstars
Summary: "Tony?" Steve says at the other end on the line. His voice is nothing but a whisper, shaky. Fragile.Tony immediately sits in his bed. "Steve? Are you okay?""Tony," he says again. His lungs fail one more time. He tries talking. "I think I'm having a panic attack."
Relationships: Steve Rogers/Tony Stark
Series: happy steve bingo 2019 [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1538764
Comments: 7
Kudos: 85
Collections: Happy Steve Bingo 2019





	just keep breathing

**Author's Note:**

> the prompt for this one is "breathless". i was going for a different path but again, this idea came and i wrote it right away. it worked. i hope you guys enjoy it.
> 
> ps: tony doesn't die on endgame here, so yay me. everyone eventually gets happy.

"Tony?" Steve says at the other end on the line. His voice is nothing but a whisper, shaky. Fragile.

Tony immediately sits in his bed. "Steve? Are you okay?"

"Tony," he says again. His lungs fail one more time. He tries talking. "I think I'm having a panic attack."

"I'm on my way," Tony says, already getting out of bed. He takes his keys on his desk, puts on a robe.

"I'm sorry, Tony..."

"No, enough of that now. Steve, I need you to breath for me okay? Inhale as much as you can, don't overthink the exhales. Can you keep doing it until I arrive?"

He hears a quiet breath over the phone. Steve, trying to breath. In, and out. _That's my boy._

"I... Yes," Steve finally answers.

"I'll be there in 5."

"Thank you, Tony."

"Just keep breathing for me, buddy."

* * *

[10 minutes earlier]

_It's just a bad dream. Just a bad dream, Steve, please woke up. Please,_ he tells himself. _Wake the fuck up! _

The thing is, he doesn't. Is real. It usually comes in waves — the guilty, the mourning, the screams, the cry. Not today, no — it all comes for him, all at once, and his heart races, his mind stops working and all he can think is them: all the people he _let_ die, he _let_ be vanished. _It's my fault_, Steve whispers to himself. It is his fault, and this time no one can fix it.

He can't breath. Hell, maybe_ he doesn't deserve to breath._ He's here, and they're not. How many people died? He doesn't really remember. He's afraid they will be forgotten, because they don't deserve it. He knows he won't let them be forgotten. His mind keeps playing with him, showing him strange names, strange faces, and maybe he's hallucinating, because he thinks he's seeing all the people that disappeared a week ago. And then there's Bucky and Sam. And the world closes itself, suffocating him and God, _how_ does one breath? _I don't deserve to be here, I'm a piece of shit, I let them go, why did I let them go? Couldn't I do more?_ _**Yes**_, his brain answers. _**But you didn't do more, and they are dead. Vanished. **_

He feels his chest burn and there's no air, he's sure there's no air in this room, and maybe the world is ending for good. Maybe Thanos, that goddamn piece of fuck, that plague, finally decided to snap the whole world. Steve doesn't care. He just wants this feeling to go away. If that means be dead, so be it. It's not like he can breath right now. But please, God, be quick. It hurts. It's dark. It's terrifying. Go. Away.

Please.

He stands up from his bed and tries to walk but jesus, why is it so hard? It's so dark. He gasps for air, his body pulling him a trick trying to breath when he doesn't deserve to do it. Don't breath. Lungs, stop. Let me be.

But they fight him, and he slowly feels his chest go up and down, fast, but still breathing. _No_.

_It's a dream. Please, Steve, get up. Go be with your friends._

He doesn't wake up.

Steve falls on his knees and he feel his whole body hurts, his chest still burning, his breath will never go back to normal. Maybe this is a heart attack, then. Please be quick.

It's not.

The last thing he does, a last resource, when his mind gives him 2 seconds of break and be can think, he reaches out for his phone.

_"Steve, if anything, anything happens, you call me from here, okay?" He remembers Tony saying. He gave Steve a fancy cellphone. "My number is the emergency contact. You don't hesitate in call me, alright?" Steve nods. He feels a warm tear cross his face. _ _ _Thank you, Tony._ _

"Tony," it's so hard to talk. So hard to breath. "I think I'm having a panic attack."

* * *

Tony thanks god — or whatever — for not living too far away from Steve. He gets there in less than five minutes, a few speeding tickets, a lot of red lights he totally ignored later. Actually, he ignored all of them. He's glad he's not dead, but then again, half of the world is, so what? It's not like he cares about anything else right now. Steve. He must help Steve.

Tony storms out on Steve's apartment, _God, the door wasn't even locked!_, and finds Steve on his bedroom, curled up, laying on the floor, still trying to breath.

"Steve. Oh my God." He sits down by his side, places his friend's head on his lap. "Steve, please talk to me."

Blues eyes look up at him. The blonde opens his mouth. No sound.

"Steve, please," Tony's voice is broken. No, not him. He doesn't deserve any of this. "I need you to sit with me, okay? Alright. One, two..."

Steve's body feels so heavy, but they manage to work together, and Steve sits down. He looks at Tony with dead eyes, like he wasn't really seeing him.

"Steve... Please. God, please. Say something. For me."

The blonde looks away, and the first thing he says is like a knife against Tony's chest.

"It's... My... Fault."

"No, it's not. No." Tony pulls him for a hug, and squeezes Steve so tight like he could make his pain go away. "Don't think about it, Steve, please. I just need you to breath. Can you?"

"Don't... Want to."

"Just for me, Steve. It's all I ask."

Tony's desperate, and Steve sees in his eyes. It doesn't make him feel worse — his eyes, Tony's eyes, show him everything. It gives him strength to try.

Steve inhales, slowly, so slow he can taste the air, and Tony's smell, he smell like woods and mint. Steve focus on that. And exhales, letting it all out. It works. The burn on his chest lights.

"Again, honey. Again. I'll do it with you, see?"

They breath together, one time, two, ten. It goes on for almost five minutes, and it works, of course it works. Tony always helps.

"You did it, Steve. I'm so proud," and they hug each other. Another five minutes. Steve cries on his shoulder, Tony cries on his. All the guilty and the shame, all the fear, they let it out for each other.

"I wanted to die, Tony," Steve says at one point, and the brunette eyes go wide. "This feeling... It's the worst thing I've ever felt."

"I... Know, how it feels," Tony sighs. "It's so fucking hard. The guilt. You just get used to it, but it never lets you. I feel like this for years."

"You're the strongest person I know, you know that?" Steve takes his hand.

"Hey, I'm not the super soldier here!" Tony jokes around, and for the first time in days, Steve laughs.

"No, you're not. You're so much more than that."

Tony's eyes light up the whole room, and then he smiles. Steve looks at it like is his salvation.

"It will get better, right?" He asks.

"Don't know... But I really hope it does."

They both go to Steve's bed, not getting each other go. Steve finally sleeps, breathing against Tony's hair. He doesn't wake up once that night.

* * *

A few weeks go by. Tony insists that Steve needs to go to therapy, and the soldier obeys. He wants to feel better, somehow.

And it helps, like he never expected to.

Steve comes to terms with himself that it's not his fault, any of it — he tried his hardest, like he always did. You can't win every fight, he should know by now.

It makes sense, but still hurts. So one day, he calls Tony again, and asks him to take him to the memorial.

This day, he cries in front of Bucky's and Sam's name, and all the friends he lost. He lets himself miss them, doesn't hold back. It all goes out in a ugly cry, but Tony's there holding him. So it helps, a lot.

Now, Tony sleeps in Steve's apartment two times a week, helps him deal with his issues, takes him to therapy, hugs him, and makes him feel better.

It eventually gets better.

But it gets so much better when Tony comes in Steve's apartment one day, a huge smile on his face, and says "I know how to fix it. We're gonna bring them back."

Because two weeks after that, everyone is there again.

And Steve can _finally_ breath easy again.

**Author's Note:**

> let me know what you think!


End file.
